The City Of Dreams
by NY'sAngels
Summary: AU. In New York all your dreams can come true. And sometimes it's a coincidence that leads you to where you're meant to be. - DL, FA. Co-written by Brinchen86 and Hannah554
1. Early Morning Chats

**The City Of Dreams**

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**_**Summary: **_**In New York all your dreams can come true. And sometimes it's a coincidence that leads you to where you're meant to be. - DL, FA**

_**Author's note:**_** Hey! It's **_**Hannah554 **_**and **_**Brinchen86**_**! We decided to write a story together about our two favourite ships. Here is the first chapter! We hope you'll like it. Reviews are very appreciated! This is an AU fics- they all have different jobs.  
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_**Disclaimer:**_** We don't own anything, not the characters, not the show, nothing.**

_**Categories:**_** Romance/Friendship**

_**Rating:**_** T**

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**_**1. Early Morning Chats**_**  
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The sound of an alarm filled the room, the constant beeping growing louder as it was ignored until a hand appeared from beneath the mess of blankets and covers on the bed. It groped for the alarm, hitting the top of it repeatedly until it found the snooze button and the sound was silenced. The hand quickly disappeared beneath the sheets again and tired sigh of relief could be heard from beneath. The silence didn't last long, moments later the door to the bedroom opened, bringing with it the light from the hallway and the smell of coffee.

"Up you get sleepy head," the woman who entered said as she placed the steaming mug of coffee on the bedside table. "Don't make me drag the covers away again."

"Go away Lindsay," a muffled voice came from beneath the sheets.

"Alright Jess but don't say I didn't warn you," Lindsay replied grabbing the cover and preparing to yank it off the half asleep form of her roommate.

"Alright, alright, I'm up," Jess replied, the form beneath the covers moved until Jess's head poked out of the top. She glared at Lindsay for a moment but murmured her thanks as her friend passed her the coffee that had been on the bedside table. "I hate mornings."

"After living with you all these years, I've kind of noticed," Lindsay replied smiling as she stood up to leave. "Come on, you've got that new piece of art work coming in this morning that you've been all excited about adding to your collection, now get up before you're late."

"I'm my own boss, I can't be late," Jess mumbled stubbornly as she sank deeper into the covers. Lindsay pulled them back and ignored the glare her friend was directing at her, it lacked it's full impact when she was still half asleep.

"You can if you miss the delivery guy, now I'm going to finish getting ready, don't make me come back in here," Lindsay told her and then stood up to leave. Jess continued to glare at her back as she dragged herself from the bed taking the coffee into the bathroom with her. Twenty minutes later she was showered and dressed for the day, dark brown wavy hair brushed into place, eyes fully open and at least looking more or less ready for the day.

"Out of everyone in New York, I had to end up sharing an apartment with a morning person," Jess grumbled as she walked into the kitchen where Lindsay was finishing the remains of her cereal and coffee. Jess dropped some bread into the toaster and grabbed a plate from the cupboard; she poured herself some more coffee knowing she wouldn't be fully awake until she'd gotten a couple more cups of the stuff down her. She wasn't usually this bad, she was far from a morning person and could be cranky as hell until she got that first cup of coffee down her but she'd been at work until late making sure everything was prepared for the arrival of the new art work this morning.

"You're lucky to have me," Lindsay said with a smile as she downed the last of her coffee.

"Anything interesting to write in your column this morning?" Jess questioned and Lindsay shrugged.

"I'm not actually sure yet, I'm not worried, I usually have something by the time I sit down to write it and even when I don't I just write whatever comes to me," Lindsay told her sounding particularly mellow about the whole thing but Jess knew how much she loved her job, she'd worked hard to get herself her own column in the paper.

"I'm sure whatever you come up with will be great, everyone loves your column," Jess replied and Lindsay shrugged and changed the subject like she usually did when someone complemented her.

"So what exactly is this new piece of art work you have coming in today?" she questioned and Jess gave her a look that told her she knew what she was doing.

"It's by a new artist, this is only his second piece but he's already got the spotlight on him, I was lucky to get it," Jess told her as her toast popped out of the toaster and she turned around to grab it, pulling the butter out of the nearby cupboard and smearing it on the toast.

"I can't believe how much of that stuff you put on there, do you know how bad for you that is?" Lindsay questioned wrinkling her nose as Jess ate her toast.

"You remind me every morning," Jess replied with a smirk.

Lindsay rolled her eyes and stood up, grabbing her purse from the kitchen counter. "I have to run or I'll be late, no going back to bed."

"I'm not that bad," Jess called after her friend who just waved her off as she left. Jess sighed and finished her coffee, grabbing her purse and second slice of toast as she followed Lindsay out of the apartment. The delivery wasn't due for another hour and while she fully expected to be waiting around for it for hours she knew if she was late it would arrive early, deliveries just worked that way.

* * *

With a satisfied smile, Don glanced at his watch. It was still early in the morning, most of those nine to five workers would have just left their beds and be on their way to their offices. There were days when he envied them. Having a steady working schedule, doing the same work over and over again without any unexpected surprises. Then again he knew he wouldn't be able to stomach such a job. He had to stay at crime scenes in the middle of the night, soaking wet due to the rain? He would have to deal with suspects who didn't get that running away wouldn't get them anywhere? Fine. It was worth it. At least his job never bored him. And having flexible shifts also could have its advantages.

Sure, sometimes he was annoyed when his cell started ringing in the middle of the night because some idiot had decided to kill someone else once again. Of course it was no fun to be out all night in the freezing cold. And he could imagine much better activities than chasing people through alleys, possibly slipping and ending up in the dirt. But this was his job and his passion. It suited him perfectly. No matter how much he cursed it sometimes, his job was the best he could imagine for himself.

But now this didn't matter anyways. Time for a break. A breakfast break so to speak. Bending down next to his desk, Don grabbed the large bag that was resting there; an old, slightly dirty leather bag. It wasn't like he couldn't afford to buy a new one but why should he buy a new one when the old one was still doing its duty? Releasing a sigh as he did so, he pulled the small paperbag out of its hidden place in the old bag. Leaning back in his chair again, he opened it, once again sighing at the piece of bread, thickly covered with butter, that he found inside. Gone were the good old days when his parents made him food for school but the ones he managed to make early in the morning in a hurry were better than nothing. And bread with butter; there was just something oddly delicious about it. No matter what his best friend tried to make him believe.

Just as Don attempted to bite into the thick slice of bread, a hard knocking at his door caught his attention. Before he could tell the person to come inside, the door flew open as Danny entered the office, just as forcefully slamming it shut again. It was a habit of his friend; storming into a room to flop down into the chair across from his at the other side of the desk.

"Why do you even bother to knock when you come in anyways?" Don asked, finally taking the bite of his bread. It was like a tradition between the two men who had known each other since they could remember. It was possible as babies they had already been lying next to each other, seeing who could scream louder. Danny was no fan of waiting, and impatience could be one of his names. Don didn't mind though; if someone was allowed to burst into his office or apartment, it was his best friend.

"It's not like there's anything I might disturb," Danny replied with a grin. "Not that you have a hot secretary or something."

Don rolled his eyes, swallowing the mouthful of bread. "Funny, Dan. So, may I ask what gave me the honor of seeing you at this office so early in the morning? Don't tell me you got yourself into yet another complicated case again."

"Do I ever do that?" Danny asked back. At the way his friend raised his eyebrows at him knowingly, he lifted his shoulders, sighing. There was no need for pretending anything. He liked to get himself into cases that got complicated. Many times Don had stepped in before the situations could get out of hand. Over the years they had become a fantastic and well working team. "I didn't get myself into trouble, really. I'm not that much of an idiot. No, this time I would just like some help with a case."

"Some hot woman who wants to prove her husband is cheating on her?" Don questioned. He just couldn't help it. "Why exactly do you need my help here? Or better yet, for what?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "As if that's the only kind of cases I work. No, seriously. There's a guy who needs me to get something back. He's quite a rich guy, you know. A banker. Loads of expensive stuff. Obviously that's well known among robbers."

"The rich kind of clients?" Don laughed, shaking his head in amusement. Sometimes he wondered why his friend even bothered to do this job; rich people and Danny just didn't get along. Many times he had been close to exploding about those people's attitudes. It was funny to watch and knowing that once again his best friend had to deal with a client who he would never ever go near outside of his office was an amusing image he enjoyed a lot. "Whoa, Danny, your favourite clients."

"At least they're paying well," Danny replied, ignoring the teasing grin his friend was giving him. "May I tell you why I'm here now or not?"

"Fine, continue." Once again leaning back in his chair, Don signalled he was listening.

Danny nodded. "The guy came to me because someone stole an incredibly expensive piece of art work. An old painting. Very precious."

"Why's he not going to the police to ask for help there?" Don wanted to know.

"Hello? Rich guy. Those never act like we would," Danny answered. "Well, he said he doesn't want anyone to know he actually owns this art work. It's something everyone's after and he has no idea how whoever stole it even found out he had it. Also how he got it possibly wasn't legal."

"Let's pretend you didn't just say that," Don said with a wink. "So, what exactly do you need me to do then? Get Mr Rich Man his art work back?"

"I'd like to know if more cases like that turned up lately," Danny explained. "And if this happens in the future, it'd be good if you informed me."

"Will do." With another sigh, Don tossed his half eaten breakfast onto his desk. "Let's see if I've got something for you already." With that Don got up, heading to his office door as Danny followed him. Yet another breakfast break he had to interrupt but for his friend he was willing to do that. Working with him was always interesting as his friend seemed to have a talent for getting the most strangest cases one could imagine. This one would surely be no exception.**  
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Author's note:**_** Thanks for reading! Please let us know what you think. Thank you!!! :)**


	2. Meetings

**Authors Note (Hannah and Brina): So here's chapter two, we hope you enjoy it and huge thanks to afrozenheart412 and ManhattanMadame for the reviews. Also thanks to everyone for reading and adding the story!**

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****Chapter 2: Meetings**

Like every morning, the subway was filled with what had to be millions of people. On some days, Danny wondered why there were any traffic jams in New York in the first place; rather it seemed like every single inhabitant was using the subway. How else was it to explain that the subways, no matter how many wagons it had, seemed to be bursting every time he took it? But as much as others would possibly be pissed off by being locked between all those people, clinging to the metal pole while shoulders, bags and asses were rammed into them, Danny didn't really care.

In fact he found it a hilarious situation. If one watched people acting, reacting and interacting, it wasn't surprising why out there some people constantly lost it and beat each other up. Next to the unique and sometimes disgusting smell of humans, there was so much aggression in the air that sometimes he wondered why there had never started a huge fight in one of the subways he had taken so far. Then again there wasn't even space for slapping someone.

But as funny as it was to watch people glaring at each other, mumbling curses while others simply acted like they were all on their own, he couldn't deny a strange feeling of relief filled Danny whenever the train stopped, the doors opened and he could take a deep breath of fresh air. As fresh as air could be in New York City.

Yet another busy day in his small office that was just big enough for a closet and a desk, was awaiting him as he quickly made his way up the stairs and out of the subway station. A warm breeze was greeting him as he ran in wavy lines to not get hit by all the other busy passengers. He himself usually wasn't hectic at all. For him, it was a waste of time to be stressed. Running around busy, not having a single second to just sit down and relax? His job was exhausting, but still he wouldn't force himself into such a lifestyle. The fact he was his own boss was a big advantage for that.

With the usual smile on his face, he left the subway tunnel, like every morning turning around to head over to the nearby office building. But, not like every morning, he was stopped by crashing into something with so much force it caused him to stumble and almost fall. Grabbing the banister of the stairs, he prevented himself from crashing down back into the station as he felt something burning hot on his chest. Glancing down, he found his new, fresh white shirt covered with a nice, giant stain of coffee.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry!"

It was this female voice that sounded so shocked and embarrassed that caused him to look up. In front of him, he found the reason for his almost accident; a petite young woman, possibly a bit younger than him, with soft, light brown curls and huge dark brown eyes that were staring at him like she had run him over with a car instead of bumping together with him. Her face seemed to have reached the colour of a ripe tomato and while one hand was still holding the now empty pot of coffee, her other one was pressed against her mouth in shock.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you coming!" she managed to say after yet another awkward moment. Danny wondered if he had ever seen someone being more embarrassed before. Possibly this came close to the expression he had had as his father had walked in on him while he had been 'busy' with one of his girlfriends at home.

"Oh, no worries, it's fine," he finally spoke then, glad to have the ability to actually form words back. "I should have paid attention myself as I rushed up here. I didn't see you either."

"Well, at least you didn't dump your entire coffee on me," she said guilty. "Of course I'll pay the cleaning and everything. I'll just give you my address and..."

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay." Although his heart was still racing, Danny couldn't help the smile that lit his face at the way the young woman was acting. "You don't have to pay for anything. Apart from that, I think it looks quite cool. I mean, isn't that modern lately? Dirty and ripped clothes and stuff? Maybe I could make a hole in it. Then everyone will envy me."

Danny's smile widened as the woman chuckled herself now. He could imagine he would have been just as embarrassed as her if he had covered her in coffee. She couldn't know he didn't mind at all. Not when the person with a coffee was a cutie like her.

"It's really fine then?" she asked carefully. Her face was still red but at least she didn't look like a scared doe anymore. "The coffee was still so hot."

"Nah, it's fine, really," he reassured her. "And that aside, I have to say if getting showered in coffee always leads to me meeting a beautiful lady like you, I'll be more careless every day from now on."

This time she laughed as she shook her head. "Not everyone would see it like that I guess."

"I did," he replied. Once again, he gave her a short look over. The longer he watched her the more he realised how attractive she really was. Beautiful didn't even come close to how he would describe her. And she was sexy, that was for sure. Especially with that little smirk of hers he was now allowed to see. Yes, if he met her more often that way, he would willingly allow her to spill her coffee all over him every day from now on. "So, now that we clarified that, even though you don't have to pay the cleaning, may I still ask you for your name?"

"Sure." A bright smile lit her face; a smile that instantly caused him to tickle inside. It was impressive what a simple smile could do. "I'm Lindsay." Politely, she offered her hand.

"Danny," he introduced himself, shaking the offered hand. He noticed the rush of warmth that spread through him as he grabbed her delicate hand and felt her fingers close around his. Surprisingly strong grip. "Nice to meet you. Hopefully there'll be some continuity of that one day."

"Would be nice indeed," Lindsay agreed. "So, Danny, I think I should hurry now. Duty is calling. Then hopefully see you again soon."

"Yep," he answered. And a bit quieter added, "You bet."

Danny watched Lindsay hurrying across the street. He kept on watching until he couldn't make her out anymore in the thick crowd of people. The dirty shirt and hot coffee was forgotten as yet another smile lit his face and he shook his head. What a nice coincidence. And he wasn't too surprised as he caught himself by hoping he would run into her again soon.

* * *

Jess arrived at the gallery to see a man in a delivery uniform ringing the doorbell and she ran over to him as he turned to leave. "You're here to deliver the painting?" she questioned and the man nodded looking slightly put out at her late arrival and Jess bit back a comment about her having expected him to be late.

"Sign here," he instructed handing her a clip board and she quickly skimmed over the page before signing the bottom. She knew most people didn't both to read what they were signing, just writing on the dotted line but it was a habit she'd picked up from her father, one she had never fully been able to shake off. She handed the clip board back and the man gestured to the guy still sitting the truck who jumped out and joined him at the back.

Jess was excited as they opened it and pulled out her painting, she couldn't stop the few comments about being careful from escaping and was really not bothered by the glares she got in return. The art was covered to prevent damage but once the men got it into the building she quickly uncovered it, inspecting the work before the two men hung it on the wall for her. It was a large piece, an abstract painting of a river setting, a place that had been close to the artist's heart and showed clearly his emotions as he'd sat in that place and painted it. The delivery men left and Jess went to her office, she had a pile of paperwork to do and things still needed to be put in place or confirmed for the exhibition she was hosting in two weeks. She hated leaving things until the last minute, she preferred to have her mind at ease, knowing everything was taken care of.

She was about to pick up the phone when it started ringing and she smiled, shaking her head as she answered it. "Angell galleries," she answered, she hated that name but it was part of a family business that her mother had run before she died and her father had allowed her to take over since she'd inherited her mother's love of art. It was the name her mother had given the business, unoriginal as it may be, Jess would never change it.

"Miss Angell, this is Thomas Brand, I just wanted to check that my artwork arrived this morning," the voice of the latest artist to be added to her collection replied.

"Yes, Mr Brand it arrived a short while ago, it's on display on the first floor in one of the rooms near the entrance just as you requested," Jess reassured him. "It'll be among the first pieces people see when they tour the gallery. I want to thank you again Mr Brand for allowing me to host this piece, it's a wonderful addition to my gallery."

"I should be thanking you for taking it Miss Angell, it's only my second piece, well my second publicised piece," Brand replied.

"I actually wanted to speak with you about that, I'd like to host some of your earlier work, you know the ones you've got hidden away somewhere," Jess told him with a smile. "I'd like to show them along with the piece I already have, I think it would make a good collection, show your development as an artist."

"That's an interesting offer Miss Angell," Brand stated thoughtfully. "Allow me to dig out those old paintings and I'll see what I have for you."

"That would be great, of course you'll be paid for any paintings I use, we'll discuss the details of that later," Jess told him, thanking him once again before ending the call and getting to work on the preperations for the upcoming exhibition. She sighed as she looked over the 'to do' list and the mountain of paper work she had to do, there were days when hiring an assistant seemed like a good idea.

* * *

The editorial office was busy like usual around this time in the morning. Lindsay was sitting at her desk that, to her luck, wasn't located in the middle of the giant office, like those of those poor guys who really weren't able to get a single word written while everyone was running around them like crazy bees. But even though she had a nice distance between herself and this crazy bunch of journalists, Lindsay couldn't fully concentrate. In fact she couldn't concentrate at all.

With a groan, Lindsay glared at the empty file on her computer screen. It seemed like it was laughing back at her, making fun of her lack of concentration. Usually she never prepared her column for the next day as the ideas came to her when she sat down at her desk and started her computer. Most of the time she got inspired by various random things; a conversation she overheard, something she saw on TV, an article in a magazine, interactions she watched or just sudden impressions. There was always a topic that was perfect for her column, even if it was just as simple as writing about men.

But at the moment, she couldn't even think about anything as easy as discussing why men and women just couldn't get along. Instead her mind was blocked by another thought. A thought about a certain event that had happened to herself earlier that day. Still she couldn't prevent herself from thinking of that one moment when her coffee had decided it looked much better on a man's shirt than in the cup. On the shirt of a very handsome man even. Despite the shocking moment and the following embarrassment she hadn't missed those sparkling blue eyes that seemed to indicate he had to have superpowers; how else could eyes alone turn her knees into jelly? And then this smile, no, it had more been a smirk. A smirk that was so cocky she had wanted to slap it off his face just the moment she had wanted to press her lips against his to kiss it away.

"You're officially crazy." Lindsay shook her head at herself in disbelief as her face reddened at her own thoughts. Once she had seen this man, Danny, for a short moment while apologizing for dropping a whole cup of hot coffee on him. And now she was thinking of how she wanted to kiss his smirk off his face? She had to be crazy. Then again this little encounter had been long enough for her to feel that he had a well trained body as well.

"Okay, that's enough." With a groan, Lindsay leant back in her chair, staring towards the ceiling with the annoyingly humming ventilators. It wasn't even her own fault though. Had she made this man so incredibly attractive? No. Surely she could have chosen a less attractive man for a coffee shower, but it had happened like this and how she had to deal with it. One thing was for sure though, she wouldn't easily get him out of her mind during this day.

Releasing a deep sigh, she sat up straight again, staring back at her computer screen. Still no single word was filling the empty page. All because of a coincidence that had made her meet Danny who was now pushing himself into her mind over and over again. Not that she minded to think about a sexy man. At work this could get a little difficult though.

"Coincidences," she said out loud. A coincidence had made her meet him. And who knew, maybe she would see him again? He had seemed like he hadn't been offended by her at all. Instead there had been this little flirt between them, despite the hot coffee that had been covering his shirt. Often people got to meet because of coincidences and from what she had seen in various TV shows, some had even found the loves of their life like that.

"That's it." A broad grin lit Lindsay's face as she moved closer to her desk and typed the headline. "Coincidences or how you meet people you usually wouldn't."

With that Lindsay started to type, glad her inspiration was back. Obviously the meeting with Danny had indeed been a good thing, in many different ways.

* * *

Don arrived at the small cafe a little later than he had hoped and found Danny sitting there with a waitress refilling his cup of coffee, surprisingly he wasn't flirting with her. Don sat in the chair opposite him and gave the waitress a smile as he ordered his food, she returned the smile and walked away to take care of his order. Danny was looking through a file in his hand waiting for Don to finish his order before closing it and looking up.

"You're late," he stated.

"Sorry, got caught up at work," Don told him and Danny nodded his head understandingly.

"It happens," he stated as the waitress came back with Don's drink letting him know that his food would be arriving shortly along with Danny's. He thanked her and Danny murmured his own gratitude as the waitress looked at him, obviously trying to get his attention and for some reason failing miserably before she left.

"What's with you, normally you'd have her number by now?" Don questioned. "Or at least be trying to get it."

Danny shrugged. "She's just not my type."

Don raised an eyebrow. "Pretty, blonde, legs that go on for miles and is clearly interested in you, since when is that not your type. Actually since when is anything female not your type?"

"I think you have the wrong opinion of me," Danny stated. "It's not like I go after every girl I see and I think you've had about as many girlfreinds as me over the years."

"Name?" Don questioned after staring at Danny for a moment and his freind looked up with a confused frown. "You've got that look on your face you get when you're about to tell me you got a girl's number when I bet you that you wouldn't be able to do it, I've given up on that now by the way."

"Lindsay something, I have no idea who she was, I ran into her this morning on my way into the office, she spilt coffee all over me," Danny told him with a smile and Don laughed.

"You'll do just about anything to meet girls," he stated and ignored the glare he got from Danny in response.

"At least I get some once in a while, the last girl I saw you with was Kaylee and that was what, six months ago," Danny teased him. "If you actually bothered to look you'd see there's three girls in the cafe eyeing you up and you could probably leave here with all three of their numbers."

"I think I'm done with all that now Danny, I'm tired of the girl's who have only got a few brain cells to rub together and don't get that I have a job to do and can't always take them out to nice places," Don told him.

"So you decided to live like a monk?" Danny questioned. "You'll never find anyone if you don't at least put yourself out there."

"I don't want just anyone Dan, I want the right one," Don told him.

"How sappily romantic," Danny told him sounding slightly grossed out.

"Anyway, onto more serious matters, I checked through our records. We've had a couple of robberies in the last few weeks that might be connected to your case. Two crimes where a valuable piece of artwork was stolen but in one case it was a statue and not a painting, if you stop by the precinct later I'll go over what I can with you, they're still active cases so I can't tell you everything," Don informed him.

"Whatever you can tell me will be great, I'll be there after I close the office this afternoon," Danny told him, his interest clearly piqued. The waitress arrived with their meals, once again Danny was oblivious to her attempt at getting his attention and Don laughed quietly to himself.

* * *

With amusement Jess was watching her friend for a while now. Lindsay was sitting across, staring down at the cup of coffee she had just ordered at the women's favourite cafe; a place where they used to meet whenever they could during the day. To others this behaviour made no sense as they were living together but for them it was a tradition they loved. Now her best friend was glancing at her coffee like it had just told her something really offending and preventing herself from laughing at just the sight became harder and harder for Jess.

"Will you enlighten me on what the poor coffee did to you?" she asked then.

Lindsay, snapping out of her thoughts, looked up, blushing in an instant. Almost she had forgotten she wasn't alone in the cafe. "Uh...nothing. I was just thinking."

"That I saw," Jess replied with a grin. "What about?"

"Coffee," Lindsay answered with a sigh. "And coincidences."

"Coffee and coincidences?" Jess raised her eyebrows in confusion. "Let me guess, those have more in common than the letter they start with?"

Once again Lindsay sighed as she traced her fingers over the edge of the cup. "They have in common that I had a very embarrassing experience today."

"Oh? And? Would you bother to tell me more than those cryptic statements?" Jess asked.

"There isn't that much to explain," Lindsay answered. "I was on my way to work and was in a hurry and as I reached the subway station near the editorial office, I crashed into a man and spilled all my coffee over his shirt."

Jess had to bite her tongue to not break out into laughter. She could clearly imagine how her friend had looked like at that particular moment; a tomato would have been jealous of this pretty shade of red. "Was he at least handsome?" she wanted to know.

"Jess!" Lindsay exclaimed, glaring at her friend.

"What?" Jess grinned at her. "It's a normal question. So, was he?"

Lindsay rolled her eyes and groaned. "Yeah, he was. Very handsome." As she saw how her friend raised her eyebrows once again, she added, "Fine, he was hot and I wouldn't have minded him to take that damn shirt off that was covered in my coffee."

"That's my girl," Jess replied with a smirk. "But how did it go? I don't doubt you wanted to just disappear at that moment but it doesn't seem like you got into trouble because of that."

"No," Lindsay answered. "Instead...well, it seemed like we've almost been flirting?"

"Almost?" Jess shook her head in amusement. "When you say 'almost' that means you definitely have been flirting. And? Did you get his name or phone number?"

"Would you please stop that now?" Lindsay tried to glare, couldn't help but smile herself though. "I know that his name is Danny and he knows my name as well. I had to hurry."

"Ugh, you could have at least suggested that he'd have to meet you again so you could invite him for a coffee, or he could do that for you," Jess said with a playful groan. "So what's that having to do with coincidences? That thanks to your coffee you met a man you now can't stop fantasizing about?"

Lindsay didn't try to contradict or deny it; her friend knew her too good. "Pretty much," she admitted then. "But can we please not intensify that? Why don't you tell me about your morning? Did the artwork arrive?"

Lindsay knew her change of topic was more than obvious. Jess gave her a knowing look, to her friend's relief following her wish. "Yes, it arrived and it's amazing," she answered. "I asked the artist to show me more of his works."

"Really? That sounds fantastic," Lindsay said. She knew how much Jess loved the artwork she had been waiting for and could imagine that she wished to see more of the artist. "And apart from the artwork, how is your day?"

"Busy," Jess sighed.

"That's what I expected," she laughed. "Seems like that's something we have in common."

The next hour was spent with the two women chatting. Lindsay, still thinking about her earlier meeting with Danny, had to admit her friend had been right as she had headed into a special direction with her question. She was attracted to this man and they had been flirting. Now they just had to meet again. So far the day had started exciting. On that they all agreed.


	3. A Day At Work

**Author's note (Hannah and Brina): Thank you so much again to afrozenheart412 and ManhattanMadam for those lovely and very encouraging reviews! Thanks also to everyone who is reading our story and to those who added it! Here is a new chapter again, enjoy!**

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****Chapter 3: A Day At Work**

After the stressful and confusing morning, work seemed to ease during the day. Had Lindsay been unsure on what to do as she had arrived at work hours ago, now she was almost done with her column and was working on other articles she was writing for the newspaper occasionally. Anyways this didn't mean that her thoughts didn't continue what they had done all the time before ever since a certain meeting at the subway station; they drifted away, over and over again. Because still Danny was in her mind all the time. For whatever reason.

"So, coincidences, huh?"

The voice of one of her co-workers it was this time that caused Lindsay to snap out of her thoughts as once again she was remembering how she had crashed into Danny earlier. And how amazing those sparkling blue eyes had looked. Glancing up, she found one of her colleagues standing in front of her. Garret James was grinning down at her; a grin she only knew too well. Instantly she felt a slight discomfort rising inside her as she knew which kind of conversation would follow next.

"You read the raw version already?" she asked, offering him a polite smile. "I still have to have a second look at it."

"Oh, what for?" Garret replied. "It's perfect. Like always. Coincidences...such a fantastic topic. You know, I believe in coincidences."

"So do I," Lindsay answered, instinctively thinking of the morning again. "It's impressive what coincidences can do to you."

Garret's smile widened. "Oh yeah. Like...isn't it a fantastic coincidence you decided to work for the New York Voice."

"Actually it wasn't so much of a coincidence as I was looking for a job at a newspaper and the New York Voice was the one that employed me," Lindsay replied. She cursed herself for the emotionless way she was talking but talking to Garret wasn't like a normal conversation. A long time ago she had learnt to word her sentences carefully while chatting with him. If she didn't, Garret would immediately read more into her words. Many times before he had done that. It was in her personality to be friendly, but he seemed to misunderstand that. Whenever she had had a normal conversation with him, he had asked her out afterwards. For Lindsay those moments had always been awkward as she hated to reject a man. She could imagine it was hurtful, but Garret didn't even seem to mind. Something strange there was about his behaviour and so far she hadn't figured out what he really wanted. So she had decided to be careful what to say to him.

"But any other newspaper could have employed you," Garret said then. "It was meant to be that you start working here. And meet me."

Inwardly Lindsay winced at his voice. There was no way to avoid such conversations; he always found a way. "Yeah, who knows, but Garret, as much as it's nice to chat I really have some more work to do," she replied, hoping she could gently bring her point across although after all the months and years she felt the urge to be more direct to her colleague. "See, I have to do all that stuff here and then I've got to read this column again."

"Then maybe we could continue this conversation after work?" Garret suggested, not moving a single inch from where he was standing. "You know, we could celebrate this coincidence. That you started working here."

"Garret, we talked about that before," Lindsay told him, once again wincing. She hated to do this to a person and she wasn't even being rude. So much she wished he would just get the point. "I think it's really not a good idea if we meet after work."

Garret sighed. "You keep on saying that." He remained standing in front of her, staring down at her and once again she was filled with an uncomfortable feeling at the expression in his eyes which she couldn't interpret. Then he shrugged and got up all of the sudden. "Fine, one day you might change your opinion."

With that Garret turned around and left without giving her any other glance. Lindsay watched him walking across the room and out of it. Once again she shook her head. Garret didn't understand her and barely anyone had confused her as much as he did. Turning her attention back to her computer screen, she tried to focus as once again Danny came to her mind. At least he had seemed to be a normal guy. Then again she couldn't even know that either yet.

* * *

"Good afternoon, Mr Davis," Danny greeted as his client opened the front door of his apartment. An apartment Danny knew he wouldn't feel comfortable in. He didn't even dare to imagine how much it had cost his client Maxwell Davis. Of course he would lie if he said he wouldn't like to have such a giant apartment himself. But such penthouses always made him nervous; what if he ruined something? He surely wouldn't be able to pay for that.

"Mr Messer!" Davis greeted him with a bright smile. "I'm very happy you could come over already. Please come in."

Danny nodded. He stepped into the large hallway that was big like a living room itself. Grateful he realised the ground was covered with marble; at least he wouldn't have to take his shoes off or have to be scared to leave any dirt.

"If you would follow me," Davis said. Again Danny nodded and followed the older man into his living room. Like usual, he felt himself getting uncomfortable as he let his eyes travel through the room. It seemed like every single piece that was to be found there cost more than he earned in a year. He wasn't feeling any jealousy but anyways it felt strange to him.

"Have a seat," Davis said, already sitting down on one of his bright, white couches. Danny threw a short unsure glance at it, then shrugged lightly and followed the man's example.

"Alright, Mr Davis," Danny started then, hoping that the actual conversation would make him feel better. "I'm here because I would like to talk about your artwork again that was stolen. Unfortunately my friend couldn't give me much information yet that could be helpful, this way I depend on what you can tell me."

"I'll do whatever I can to solve this case," Davis replied.

Danny nodded. "Good. So...you already told me how you got this artwork in the first place. Do you think that the person who sold it to you could have anything to do with it? Did the man seem strange to you in any way?"

Davis shook his head. "Not really. I didn't bother to ask where he got the painting from which is why I'm a bit worried that the police could cause trouble if they found out. I don't believe it was stolen or anything as I heard only good things about the guy from friends, anyway you never know. But no, I paid and it was fine to the both of us."

"Did you show the artwork to family members, friends or anyone else?" Danny wanted to know.

"Of course!" Davis answered. "Friends and family mainly. I don't let strangers into my apartment."

"Was someone especially interested in it?" Danny questioned. "Did anyone give you the feeling they had more interest in it than others?"

Davis shrugged. "Not really. They all were interested in it as it's a really special and loved painting. But no, I wouldn't say there was anything strange."

"Okay." Danny nodded again. "Do you have any idea if there could be anyone else being interested in causing problems for you? Or is there a chance someone heard that you bought this painting? Anything can help us here, Mr Davis. Sometimes it's the people you don't suspect to do anything like that."

Danny watched Davis as he was quiet for a moment, thinking. So far he had barely any information he could work with. The man hadn't been able to tell him who had sold the painting to him or anything else that could be helpful. All Danny had managed to do had been investigating the room the painting had been in. And what he had found had made him realise the robbery surely hadn't been a difficult piece of work; there had been almost no security that could have protected such a precious piece of work. To Danny, this had seemed to be highly weird, but to his questions why he hadn't spent more thinking on protecting the painting, Davis only had answered he hadn't had the time for that yet.

"I really can't think of anything yet," Davis said then. "Would it still be alright if I called you if I found something out that could help you?"

"Of course, Mr Davis," Danny answered with a light sigh. "Thank you anyways for your help."

A few moments later, he had left the apartment again. Still he had no idea what to actually think of Maxwell Davis. He had worked on a couple of cases like that, but never people had been so careless with their artworks. But for now all he could do was trying to investigate into every possible direction, hoping he could find any evidence that would be helpful, no matter how small it was.

Walking along the street, Danny spotted a near subway station. Instinctively he had to smile as he remembered the events from earlier that day. Meeting Lindsay had been a nice way to start the morning. Still he was amazed by how much this woman was present in his mind after such a short moment. There had been something about the beautiful woman though and he caught himself by wondering if maybe he should try to use his skills and find out where she was working. Maybe that way he could meet her again.

* * *

Don sighed as his suspect dodged his questions one after another with what seemed like expert skills. Alex Mathews had no priors, he'd been caught on security camera hovering around the store that had been broken into which at the very least warranted some questions being asked. Despite the lack of priors and the fact that there was, at the moment, no evidence linking him to the case Don was pretty sure he'd done it. The man was too smug, looking at Don with an expression that read 'catch me if you can' and a grin that Don would happily wipe off his face if he could.

"Like I told you detective I was debating whether or not to go in and buy myself a couple of beers," Mathews told him with a shrug.

"For twenty minutes?" Don questioned incredulously.

"I just couldn't decide, took me a while but I decided to give it a miss in the end and came home," Mathews continued to lie and then turned to his girlfriend who had been sat more or less quietly at the back of the room, eyes raking over Don repeatedly. "Isn't that right babe?"

"Yeah, he got home around 9.30," she replied giving Don a smile and yet another appraisal.

"So unless you have something else to connect me to the robbery I'll be going now, I have things to do, Amy will show you out," Mathews told him and then left the room. Amy stood up and walked passed him to the door opening it and standing half in his way as he slid out. Don stopped and turned back to her staying just enough in her personal space to get her undivided attention but far enough to minimise his own discomfort.

"Was he really back for 9.30?" he questioned and she looked over him again.

"And what would that information be worth to you?" she questioned glancing back into the apartment probably worried her boyfriend would walk in and catch her. He didn't fail to notice the bruise at the back of her neck when she turned her head, the shape of fingers an obvious sign of where it came from. "Maybe I'll give you a call."

It wasn't the answer he was hoping for but he supposed it would have to do, Don left the apartment building with one last smile at her and got in his car. He spotted Mathews at the window of his apartment staring down at him with the smug smile still in place. He really hoped his transfer to homicide was approved because he hated the robbery squad, had done since about a week after he was assigned to it. It bored him, cases were always the same, nothing challenged him anymore. He got a text on his phone, the CSI's had found something at the scene and Don sincerely hoped it was Mathews finger prints all over the cash register so he could go back there and drag the guy away in cuffs. He doubted it though, the man may be a jerk but he was at the very least smart about it. He called Conner, the CSI answering the phone with his usual 'Yo, what's up?'.

"It's Flack, you got something for me?" he asked.

"Yeah, we found a hair at the crime scene, it was behind the cash register so the only people who should be behind there are the people working, the hair's red though, none of the employees have red hair," Conner told him and Don smiled.

"Mathews has red hair," Don stated.

"Well then I'd see about getting a warrant cos Joey is working the DNA on it now so if you can match it up, we've got him," Conner stated and Don nodded his head even though Conner couldn't see him.

"I'll call you back."

* * *

Jess left her car at home, the gallery was only a short distance from the apartment so she preferred to walk it knowing it would probably take just as long to get through the traffic in this busy part of the city as it would to just walk the distance using her shortcut. It was going to be a hectic day, she had some potential clients coming in to view the gallery to decide whether or not they wanted to use the place for an exhibition of their work. She also had some people coming in to view the collections she already had and then she had a meeting with one of her long term clients who had recently done several new pieces and wanted them adding to the collection already on show in her gallery. Her entire day was booked, she'd be lucky to get an hour for lunch between all that and the preparations for the upcoming exhibition.

She stopped at the news stand to by a copy of the paper Lindsay worked for, paying for it and thanking the guy who nodded and smiled to her as usual. She skipped to Lindsay's column which was really the only reason she bought the paper and read through it, smiling as she once again recognised how much of herself Lindsay put into her column, she'd know her friend's writing anywhere. There was so much of her personality in it, the little quirks that made her Lindsay, anybody that knew her could make the connection between the woman and the writing. She folded the paper and slipped it into her purse, if she somehow managed to get some free time for lunch later she could read the rest of it then but she was pretty sure it would end up unread in the trash by the time she left the gallery.

She passed all the same faces she usually would and smiled to Jacob, the homeless guy that lived in an alleyway between her apartment and the gallery. She usually dropped lunch off for him at some point during the day, she felt guilty that she might not find the time today. He was an artist, at least he wanted to be, he was constantly drawing on the pavement or walls and he had his own unique style that Jess wasn't the only to appreciate. Dropping his lunch off had become less about giving him something to eat and more an excuse to talk to him, to remind him that she would happily buy a piece of his work and show it in the gallery if he put the effort in and produced something for her. He always smiled and told her 'one day, Miss Angell, one day' but he'd been saying that for over a year now.

She arrived at the gallery and immediately knew something was wrong, the door was slightly opened and she knew nobody but her and her father had a key and her father was on vacation in Europe. She walked up to the door, pushing it open slowly and was greeted by the state of her trashed gallery, she stepped inside surveying the mess and hoping the rest of her gallery didn't look so bad. She checked one of the rooms nearby and found a couple of paintings on the floor, a statue knocked over and shattered, she was going to get her ass kicked for that, it was one of the artist's favourite pieces, he'd lectured her about taking care of it for thirty five minutes straight the day he'd agreed to show it in her gallery.

It was probably a bad idea to venture any further, she didn't even know if the people who did this were still in the building so she turned around and left, grabbing her cell phone from her pocket as she stopped outside and looked back at the building. She couldn't believe someone would break into her gallery, and why hadn't the alarm system gone off? She'd paid a lot of money for an expensive alarm system to protect all the artwork she had in there and the one time she needs it the thing proves to be useless.

_"911, what's your emergency."_

"There's been a break in at my gallery," Jess told the female voice on the other end of the line. She gave them the address, absently answering their questions as her gaze drifted back to the door of the gallery. She supposed she'd better start making phone calls to cancel all those meetings she had today, she needed an excuse because she couldn't exactly tell them her place had been broken into and trashed, that would be a great way to drive away clients.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Please let us know what you think. :)**


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